


One Bed

by ElectricRituals



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, trope, what other option did they have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectricRituals/pseuds/ElectricRituals
Summary: Jaskier is thankful for Lambert's help with a drowner problem and to show his gratitude, he intends to buy the witcher a room and bath at the local inn. Unfortunately (fortunately?) there is only one room left, and one bed.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	One Bed

**Author's Note:**

> So I might write a second chapter to this? Maybe? To make it earn it's rating. But I don't know yet so for now I'm calling it complete!

Jaskier had absolutely _no_ clue how he had ended up in this situation.

One second the bard had been walking along the road, not a care in the world, and the next, he had been grabbed. How he hadn’t seen the drowners along the path he wasn’t sure, but boy did he see them now. The one that had grabbed him tightened it’s grip and leaned forward, hissing.

Jaskier shut his eyes.

This wasn’t exactly how the bard had wanted to die. Well, he didn’t really want to die. But there had to be a better option than _drowners_. The next thing he knew, the drowner’s grip had loosened and he heard a strange, wet, thunk. Opening his eyes, Jaskier’s immediately locked with bright amber.

 _Geralt_.

No, Jaskier realized, looking at the man standing in front of him, not Geralt. The man’s eyes were the same and he wore a wolf medallion over his armor, but that’s about where the similarities stopped. The witcher in front of him was tall and lithe, clearly strong and powerful, but he wasn’t nearly as bulky as Geralt. He also had a thin scar across his face and brilliant red hair.

He was rather attractive, Jaskier couldn’t help but notice.

“Well, thank you, witcher. That would have been a rather… unfortunate end, don’t you think? Did you have a contract for these? In a town? I hope it isn’t far, I was starting to think I would never reach one. A bath sounds wonderful after that nonsense, I’m sure you would agree! To show my gratitude I insist on buying you a bath! Now, lead the way” Jaskier rambled, ending his command with a flourish of his hand, gesturing toward the road.

The witcher stared at him.

Jaskier at once realized he had gotten ahead of himself, “My apologies, witcher! I haven’t even introduced myself! I am Jaskier, bard to the White Wolf himself. Do you know each other? He doesn’t talk much about other witchers but since you’ve a wolf medallion I would think you would know each other. And your name?”

The witcher cocked his head to one side before letting out a snort, “You’re the stupid bastard that keeps following Geralt around?”

“So, you do know each other!”

The witcher gave him an indecipherable look, “Yeah, and it seems like you really do talk as much as he says.”

Jaskier smiled broadly, “He talks about me! Well of course he does. So, the town?”

The witcher reached down and picked up a bag that seemed to contain various parts from the drowners he had cut up and then walked back to the road, the bard close behind him.

“What has he told you about me? Good things, I hope!” Jaskier said, scrambling to keep up with the quick paced witcher.

“Loud, annoying, persistent, doomed to die a gruesome death.”

“You know so much about me and you haven’t even given me your name! I can’t just walk around calling you ‘witcher’!” exclaimed the bard.

Letting out a sigh, the witcher glanced at Jaskier before answering, “Lambert.”

“Well, Lambert, it’s an honor. Now tell me,” Jaskier paused, glancing up at the sky where it was beginning to darken with clouds, “are we close to town? I don’t exactly like the look of what’s happening up there.”

Lambert looked up, “Won’t make it before the rain starts but we’ll make it by nightfall. What’s the problem, bardling, afraid to get wet?”

Jaskier huffed, “Incidentally, I am wearing some of my best silk and I was hoping I would be able to save it from the drowner muck from earlier, but if it starts raining I’m afraid any attempt to salvage it will be in vain.”

Jaskier watched as the witcher’s eyes slowly travelled up and down his body before smirking, “You’ll survive, bardling. Now hurry if you want to make it to town at all.”

“Right! Of course! Lead the way.”

-

Lambert had, unfortunately, been correct, the pair had not made it to town before it started raining. Well, raining was a delicate way to put the ridiculously torrential storm the two were wading through. They had barely reached the edge of the town as thunder and lightning started just over head.

Jaskier was soaked and cold and about as miserable as he had ever been when the two finally pushed into the inn, walking straight to the bar, “Two rooms, please, my good man. And two baths if possible.”

The innkeeper eyed Jaskier and Lambert worriedly, “I can send up a bath, but I’ve only one room left,” he said, sending a suspicious look toward Lambert.

Frowning, Jaskier looked around the rather empty looking in, doubtful that there was only room left, “Well, no matter! We can share.” Jaskier slammed coin down on the counter, holding his hand out for the key.

The innkeeper gave Jaskier an unimpressed look but handed over a key, taking the coin off the counter quickly.

“Come along, witcher,” Jaskier commanded, walking toward the stairs.

If the witcher had any complaint at being bossed around by the bard he didn’t show it, following the bard quietly to their room.

Pushing open the door, Jaskier immediately started throwing his things around, taking his lute out of it’s case, checking to make sure it hadn’t gotten wet. Once he was confident his lute was still in immaculate condition, Jaskier looked up to find Lambert… standing directly inside the door, eyeing the bed warily.

“Problem, Lambert?” The bard asked, confused as to why the witcher hadn’t moved.

Lambert shook his head, “No, I’ll… sleep outside.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrows and looked toward the window, just in time to see a lightning strike, immediately followed by the loud crack of thunder, “Riiiight… I’m not sure why you would do that when we’ve already acquired a room.”

Lambert furrowed his brow and stalked over to stand directly in front of the bard, “You making a pass at me, bard?”

Jaskier, rather taken aback at the bluntness of the witcher, stuttered out, “Do- do you want me to?”

“I don’t think you could handle me, bardling.” Lambert said quietly, eyes darkening.

Jaskier perked up, never one to back down from a challenge, “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find out exactly what I can-”

A knock echoed through the room, cutting Jaskier off, making the tension in the room fizzle out. Lambert took a step back from the bard and Jaskier quickly moved toward the door, the bath had arrived.

The two remained quiet as they took turns in the warm bath water. After they were both done, Lambert was sitting silently, caring for his swords as Jaskier hopelessly scrubbed at his doublet.

Eventually the bard sighed out in defeat, sad to lose the new doublet, but those were the hazards of the life of the travelling bard, he supposed.

“I’m off to bed, Lambert,” The bard announced as he started getting ready, packing his lute and song journal away carefully.

“That an invitation?” Lambert’s voice was deep and sent a shock wave of desire through Jaskier.

“It’s not… not an invitation? And if you sleep on this floor tonight instead of the perfectly good bed, I assure you I will make you regret it!” The bard threatened.

Lambert snorted, “How would you do that, bardling?”

“I thought you already knew, dear Lambert. I am loud and annoying and persistent.”

Lambert leaned forward in his chair, “And destined to die a gruesome death.”

“Yes, well, death will have to wait another day to claim me.” Jaskier said, getting under the blanket on the bed.

It wasn’t very long before the witcher had finished cleaning his swords and stood up, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. Lambert slid into the bed, pressing his chest up against Jaskier’s back, making the bard tense. “Still okay sharing the bed with me?” Lambert asked, lips brushing against the shell of the bard’s ear.

“Well…” Jaskier started, rolling his hips back into Lambert’s, making the witcher groan, “I don’t want you to have to sleep on the floor. And there is only one bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hi on tumblr @ElectricRituals


End file.
